Hongdou hurried back to her room to change clothes, then went downstairs with He Yunqin.

The He family had received the invitation call; He Mengmei and Madame He had already gone ahead to the theatre. When the two of them reached the mansion gate, He Ningzheng and Duan Mingyi were just getting into their car.

He Yunqin drove Hongdou separately. Seeing her anxious on the way, he comforted her: “From last night until today, none of the St. John’s gentlemen have shown anything unusual. Old Mr. Liu has been in the Political Science Department’s study writing his book; Master Yan, though resting at home, has been in his study practicing calligraphy all day. And as you just heard, Wang Bide and the others watched the front and back entrances all day and saw no St. John’s faculty or students go to the theatre. So even if Bai Fengfei shows herself, the murderer may have changed his mind and doesn’t want to risk himself.”

The autumn rain drizzled on without stopping, a damp chill seeping in through the window in threads. Hongdou felt cold; He Yunqin was driving, so she couldn’t lean against him, and could only put on her coat. She wanted to speak, but all the words in her heart, when they reached her lips, turned into a wistful sigh.

He Yunqin glanced at her in the mirror. She must have arrived at a definite suspect, which was why she was so distressed. It seemed that being “foolish” was no good, but being “too clever” was hardly a blessing either.

Each lost in their own thoughts, they said nothing more. When they arrived at Keyu Theatre, besides the fans who’d rushed over upon hearing the news, there were also many notable local figures who’d come after catching wind of it. The fine rain had already pooled into puddles on the cement outside the entrance—hardly a good day to be out—yet everyone’s enthusiasm remained undampened. Cars and carriages arrived one after another, the crowd shoulder to shoulder, jamming the theatre entrance solid.

He Yunqin parked the car specially in an inconspicuous corner. The two had just gotten out when someone called from over there: “Yunqin.” Looking over, it was Wang Bide calling from his car, with Gu Yun and Yu Chongyi in the back seat.

The moment Hongdou saw her brother, she said: “Brother, why didn’t you go home?”

Yu Chongyi smiled wryly. “I meant to go home, but since Detective Wang was overwhelmed and his newly recruited assistant isn’t up to the task yet, he asked me to come help temporarily.”

Her brother had always been an easygoing, kind man, and besides, because of the matter with Cousin Yuqi, he felt grateful to Wang Bide—these past few days, he had been putting all the experience he’d accumulated as a former policeman toward helping Wang Bide gather clues.

As for Gu Yun, even inside the car she was diligently organizing the materials Wang Bide needed, every bit the leading assistant. But having heard He Yunqin’s full analysis of the case last night, and having organized clues under Wang Bide’s guidance today, she had more or less guessed who the murderer was, and her mood had grown somewhat low as a result.

He Yunqin leaned toward the car window and asked Wang Bide again and again: “Nothing wrong on the St. John’s side?”

Wang Bide got out of the car. “Everyone watching says nothing unusual. No suspicious person spotted at the theatre either. Today I went to St. John’s to check the school records and found out two things. First, I found the mathematics department classmate who shared a dormitory with Deng Guizhuang back then—a close friend of his. Since Deng Guizhuang disappeared without a word ten years ago, the two had nearly lost touch. According to this person, Deng Guizhuang did indeed have a romance while at school, but since they weren’t yet engaged, Deng Guizhuang was very protective of the girl’s reputation, so he only knew the girl seemed to attend a certain girls’ school, and didn’t know her name. When the girl came to find Deng Guizhuang, this person had once seen her from a distance. I showed him this photo with the girl beside Deng Guizhuang, but he only had a vague impression—he couldn’t remember clearly anymore.

“He said that in Deng Guizhuang’s fourth year, because he was researching strange occult arts, he came to know a stunningly beautiful leading actress performing at Chunying Li at the time. Deng Guizhuang had studied there for a period before, and gradually he started going to Chunying Li more and more often. Perhaps because of this, Deng Guizhuang had a falling out with that girl, and after that this classmate never saw her come looking for him again. Not long after, Deng Guizhuang suddenly fell seriously ill, nearly dying at the Red Cross Hospital. After recovering, he went to Beiping, staying away for years, and only returned to Shanghai this year. As for the second matter—”

Wang Bide looked at Gu Yun, then at Hongdou, seeing both their expressions grave, and frowned, sighing. “I checked the family circumstances of several St. John’s teachers. Among these gentlemen, only Master Yan transferred to St. John’s midway, eleven years ago. Before that, he’d taught at Shanghai University the whole time. Since he himself is tight-lipped and always extremely serious, few people know about his past. This morning I went to ask around at Shanghai University and learned that Master Yan once had a daughter—unfortunately, eleven years ago, she hanged herself over a romance. His wife had been bedridden ever since, and passed away three years ago. Since I’d found out Master Yan’s exact former address in Gongqiao from the school records, I went to that old address and asked the neighbors. It turns out that when Master Yan’s daughter was born, having gotten a daughter in his middle age, the couple cherished her dearly—despite being highly educated, they still went once to have her fortune told the moment she was born. The fortune-teller said Master Yan’s fate held no heir, and that this child would only avoid disaster by taking her mother’s surname, Ding.”

The blood drained instantly from Hongdou’s face. Gu Yun shook her head. “No—these past few days Master Yan has been completely normal, still as rigid and stern as ever, scolding students when they deserve it, enforcing discipline when needed, not the least bit lax. He carefully grades every single essay we hand in for Chinese class; wherever there’s an error or awkward phrasing, the old man patiently circles every one without fail.”

As she spoke, she went back to the car and took out a handwritten manuscript from the back seat, presenting the assignment to everyone as if to prove something. “Look, this is the assignment Master Yan graded. We’ve seen plenty of teachers, but none as rigorous in scholarship as he is. We’re all afraid of him, but we also respect him.”

Hongdou stared blankly at the essay marked in red ink, something seeming to lodge in her throat. Wang Bide opened his mouth but couldn’t get a word out for a long while. Yu Chongyi, affected by his sister and Gu Yun’s intense unease, chose his words carefully, saying gently: “Now, don’t jump to conclusions yet—after all, this is still just speculation.”

He Yunqin fell silent for a moment, glanced at his wristwatch, and said to Hongdou, who was still in a daze: “As I said on the way here, Master Yan has been home all day today. If the murderer really is him, since he hasn’t come, maybe he’s changed his mind. It’s almost seven—that person from Nanjing will arrive soon, the show is about to begin, and Bai Fengfei is probably already in costume by now. We can’t miss this chance—we worked hard to arrange things with the servants backstage, so before Bai Fengfei goes on stage, we need to have a ‘good’ talk with her.”

Hongdou finally seemed to wake as if from a dream, and said: “Alright.” As long as Master Yan didn’t come to the theatre, there was still room to turn things around.

There was a secret passage at the back entrance reserved for VIP guests. He Yunqin led Hongdou inside, with Wang Bide and the others following.

He Yunqin walked a few steps, then suddenly stopped and turned to ask Wang Bide: “Are you certain Master Yan has been home all day?”

Wang Bide looked at He Yunqin, astonished. “That’s right. Last night he read in his bedroom, the light didn’t go out until midnight. Today he was in his study practicing calligraphy again, and only went to the parlor to rest in the evening. Our people confirmed it through the window—that person had white hair, a long robe, tall and thin—it was definitely Master Yan, no mistake.”

Hearing this from the front, Hongdou relaxed even more. The theatre was packed, full house—downstairs the general seating, upstairs the boxes, all filled with opera fans who’d come to watch. As they entered, on stage was Xiao Jinrong, the martial opera actor at Keyu Theatre ranked alongside Bai Fengfei, playing Lin Chong the imperial guard instructor in The Mountain God Temple.

“Through the desolate night, through the desolate night, seeking shelter, dare not knock on any door. Gazing at the fading moon, crossing the passes in darkness, fleeing through the wilderness—one whole night fleeing through the wilderness, this remnant of a life barely escaped alive. To Liangshan I’ll borrow troops, and Gao Qiu! You treacherous villain! I swear to sweep away every traitor!”

Slaying the treacherous, offering sacrifice at the wine altar, setting fire to the temple, fleeing through the snowy night—today Xiao Jinrong performed with extraordinary skill, his singing more mournful than ever, yet losing none of its heroic spirit. With her mind weighed down by worry, Hongdou felt that the small drum’s rhythm was unbearably urgent and dense, each beat striking hard against her heart.

Just then, someone quietly approached, and while the stage lights went dark, said to He Yunqin in the darkness: “Second Young Master, Boss Bai has been in the dressing room backstage doing her makeup since she arrived.”

He Yunqin nodded, took a wad of cash from his robe, and handed it to the man. “Take us to Boss Bai quickly.”

The man tucked the cash away discreetly, pushed open a small door on the right, and led He Yunqin’s group down a corridor. They had only walked a few steps when a wave of restrained buzzing and murmuring rose from the audience behind them, as if discussing someone who had arrived. Hongdou glanced at He Yunqin’s profile, sensing that the important figure had likely arrived, and that it would soon be Bai Fengfei’s turn on stage.

They walked down the corridor to the end. The man nodded to the old doorkeeper at the side gate. The old man recognized He Yunqin and Wang Bide and, without a word, pushed open the door to let them through. A row of dressing rooms stood silent. At the easternmost one, the man knocked. “Boss Bai.”

No answer came. Just then, footsteps sounded from far down the corridor behind them, growing closer—it was the troupe owner, bringing his attendants personally to invite Bai Fengfei on stage.

The owner had a pipe in his mouth; seeing He Yunqin, he quickly took it out. “Young Master He? What brings you here?”

He Yunqin said: “Boss Bai has been missing for days. I have something to ask her. Since she’s rarely back to perform, I couldn’t wait for her to finish the show, so I came backstage specially to find her.”

Just then the man knocked again. “Boss Bai, Boss Bai?”

No answer came from inside.

He Yunqin exchanged a glance with Hongdou. Just then, from the seemingly dead-silent room came the sound of slow, heavy footsteps.

Everyone’s faces showed alarm and suspicion. He Yunqin said to the man: “Do you have a key? Open it quickly.”

The man hesitated, not moving. Bai Fengfei had a fierce temper and great airs—without her permission, who would dare barge into her dressing room?

Just then, the sound of a bench being moved came from inside again. He Yunqin’s expression shifted slightly. He pushed the man aside and kicked the door open.

Hongdou sensed something was wrong and hurried to go in. She looked up—her hands and feet went instantly cold, and she froze in shock at the doorway.

A figure hung from the beam of the room, facing the door directly. Because she was dressed as the female lead, her hair full of kingfisher-blue ornaments still trembled and swayed. Her face, which should have been heavily and beautifully made up, now bore the ashen blue-gray pallor only the dead possess.

In the room, a white-haired old man, his bearing utterly unchanged from before, did not turn around at the commotion. He first unhurriedly coiled up the rope in his hands, then smoothed out his unwrinkled long robe, and only then calmly turned to look at Hongdou and Gu Yun. “You’ve come.”

Author’s Note: I’m a bit tired today, so sorry, only one update. And the next Hong Dou Sheng Min Guo – Chapter has a lot to write, so I want to write more tomorrow on the weekend.